Rusty's had a cold this week and now it looks like I caught his bug. No surprise. I feel like my immune system has dropped since Josh was born. I used to not get sick from Rusty very often but now I'm catching it every time. So far Josh doesn't seem effected.

I met up with several other moms yesterday in Allen at Celebration Park. It was pretty fun being out with so many others (about a dozen or more showed up) and the park was nice. I was having issues though that made my experience less desirable: I had a raging headache, I was running late getting there, it was day-two of my period so I was running for the bathroom every 30 minutes, while using the bathroom with Josh at the park he kept going for the toilet to investigate so I had to spend time washing his hands afterwards, then a diaper change, all of which took at least 15 minutes in the bathroom and when we came out almost all the moms had left. At least he had fun crawling around on the grass when we all sat in a circle chatting. Despite my own problems, I'm glad I got out.

This week I've discovered I have a hard time responding to other people's problems. Not in the sense that I don't have empathy or say the wrong thing. I took Josh to a park in Carrollton earlier this week. (He had a great time though I wasn't crazy about the recycled tire chunks spread out on the playground area.) A lady was sitting on a park bench enjoying the weather and watching Josh play. She started a conversation with me about kids and how fast they grow up. Then, seemingly out of no where she confesses to me that she lost her home in New Orleans, she lives with her daughter who is about to throw her out of the house, and now she has a lump in her breast. All this personal information in about 5 minutes time. I made short reassuring responses like "Sorry to hear about your home, I guess it was time for you to make a change in life" and "The lump is probably from stress" and "We all fall on hard times; Did you hear about the tornados on the East coast this week?" That last comment was a weak tactic to change the topic. Then last night my cousin calls to say Hi and catch up. She tells me about her mother (who has amyotrophic lateral sclerosis) and her grandfather is apparently also dying. I wasn't sure how to respond so I didn't say much. It's problems that seem to be so daunting and so depressing with little to no real solution that seems to stump my ability to converse. I find myself running to quick insincere phrases or searching for a new topic. Or not saying anything at all. The next time I see that lady from the park, I hope she tells me she's doing fine. I can handle fine much better than the truth.

2 comments:

Matt said...

There's got to be some kind of response that's so patently random and absurd that it would get you off the hook, especially if the confession exceeded the intimacy of the conversation. "Oh, so, is it the kind of cancer the one that God delivers as retribution to the unrighteous? Or is it that other kind?" It would be an interesting experiment at any rate, provided it was someone you didn't care about talking to again. . . .

Cindy said...

No comments are required. They're probably feeling overwhelmed and just need someone to listen. You know when something really bad happens, it just doesn't seem real and your mind can't get a grip on it. Saying it out loud makes' it more concrete so that you can start coping with it. If you have no one who cares, you might tell your problems to some friendly stranger in the park. Maybe you choose to share with a relative on the phone. It's definitely awkward for the listener but all too human.

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